June Lockhart’s Recurring Nightmare
by David C. Kopaska-Merkel
she fumbles at the airlock controls,
the children asleep in their beds
dreaming it’s Christmas morning.
Her nightgown repeatedly snags
in the tight quarters,
while the Captain reaches for her,
mumbles “I love you” in his dream,
within her dream;
she finally gets the lock open.
Instantly she’s sucked into the void;
tumbling, she sees the ship,
things squirming from the open lock,
her breath exploding from her mouth
as she hits the floor,
tangled in the sheets,
her husband sitting bolt upright,
shouting her name,
and she’s home,
soundless screams fading
as John turns on the light.
Copyright © 2021 by David C. Kopaska-Merkel